


Fucking Pomegranate

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Greek Mythology AU, Ian as Persephone, M/M, Mickey as Hades, Modern Era Mythology, mythology AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern retelling of the Hades/Persephone myth from Greek Mythology set in a world where the Greek gods and goddesses have fallen from power millennia ago and have since had to try to fit in with the humans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fucking Pomegranate

**Author's Note:**

> This is the modern version of the myth I mentioned in the other fic: [The Pomegranate.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1607567)
> 
> I have actually had this idea for the Greek gods and goddesses to be integrated into our society for a really long time and was just looking for a way to incorporate that into a story. I think i found the perfect fandom for it! As I said yesterday, it's all thanks to [adorableusername's](http://adorableusername.tumblr.com/) prompt.

Ian stared up at the abandoned building in the Southside of Chicago and wondered exactly how he ended up here. How he ended up running all over the Southside looking for Mickey and praying he wasn’t too late. That he hadn’t disappeared.

It had started with breakfast. Not just any breakfast; it was one that Ian prepared for Mickey that caused him to freak out and run without an explanation.

But if he was honest, it actually started earlier than that. A few years earlier.

Well, actually millennia. You see, Ian Gallagher, as he’s known now to integrate among the humans, was once known as the goddess Persephone. That was way back in the times when the Greeks were practically running things. Followers were plenty, worship was strong, and the Greek gods were at the prime of their lives.

But then things started changing. Other gods and goddesses began gathering more power, more strength and the followers of Greek gods and goddesses dwindled. So they did what they could to hide amongst the humans, trying to bide their time until the world was ready for them again.

Unfortunately, with people’s faith spread so widely, their powers began to fade from so little use. So did their memories. With every passing incarnation, their powers and memories grew just a little bit fainter. It was why such a large group of them were currently living together under the guise of being a family in a small city in Chicago, Illinois, in the United States of America. In the hopes that the bond they were creating would somehow strengthen their power, and at the very least, their memories.

Fiona barely remembers Mount Olympus anymore, barely remembers her own name some days. However her passion and vengeance still ran strong. The rest of them were much of the same. They didn’t like to talk about what Liam—the name Debbie had given the child—had been thinking when he chose a small infant as his next incarnation. Ian thought it had something to do with grief, but none of them had any real idea. He was too young, too withdrawn to really understand.

Persephone had always been different from the other gods and goddesses. After all, Persephone had been a smaller deity, though no less important. It was her job to help her mother with the harvests and passing of time and seasons. Demeter had always loved her daughter, Persephone was certain of that, but she didn’t know really how to show it. She would use Persephone and then leave her high and dry without a word. Despite what the myths said, her mother kept trying to find a suitable match for her. She didn’t want to see her child left alone. But Persephone wasn’t bothered. Her mother was her mother and she would always try to help her bring back the spring or find her when the winters seemed eternal.

But things changed with the fall of Olympus. Each god and goddess took charge of their own destiny and life. It was why the gods and goddesses changed forms and genders so frequently—though they hadn’t ever bothered with the idea of gender before coming to Earth. It had been a concept created by the story-tellers though many gods and goddesses felt compelled to stick with what they had been portrayed to be.

Persephone never bothered. Though the new form, the young, now eighteen year old boy was a favorite. Ian had seemed an appropriate name choice, given that it had been his power that helped keep the seasons in sync with the world. Without him, and his mother, the world wouldn’t have been able to continue in the manner it was going.

How is that relevant to the story of why Ian was now standing in front of an abandoned warehouse? Well, the Gallaghers, as they fashioned themselves, were not the only gods to conceal themselves among the humans. They were not even the only group to have landed in the Southside of Chicago.

The other group called themselves the Milkovich family. No one is certain how many are gods and how many are simply humans they have paired up with during nefarious happenings. No one from the Gallagher clan really cared to find out.

But things had changed drastically since then. They had changed the day Ian had shown up at the house, demanding Mickey, who happened to be a god, return a stolen gun to the man Ian had been helping at a local store. One thing had led to another and Ian and Mickey had soon found themselves in a relationship of sorts.

Naturally, Ian’s family had not approved. They had done everything they could to keep them apart. You see, Mickey had once been known as Hades, the god-king of the Underworld and the dead. He had a sort of _reputation_ among the gods and goddesses, even before Olympus fell. And while they hadn’t been home in a very long time, his reputation still remained as intact as ever. He was malicious, cruel, and had no love for any. He had only cared about collecting his souls and keeping the Underworld as full as he could.

But that was not what Ian had learned. He hadn’t seen that side of Hades at all. Maybe he had been that way once, but he wasn’t anymore. After all, he had fallen from power just as the rest of them had. And now he was just Mickey, who was quiet and charming in his own unique way and treasured Ian as though he was the most precious thing Mickey had ever known. Ian had never felt that. Not even when his mother had been present. He had felt more like a family heirloom that was kept hidden away so no one else would ever see it.

Mickey made Ian feel alive, feel _loved_ in a way that he never had in all the years he’d existed. Yet no one in his family had truly understood. Ian wondered if they ever even _tried_ to understand. Sometimes he felt like Liam looked at him with such empathy that it almost felt like he understood what this love was, how intense it was.

So they had to sneak around. It wasn’t as difficult as one might imagine because Mickey always had room for Ian in his house, his room, his bed. If there were others in the house, Ian would sneak in through the window so as not to cause any trouble with the other gods in the house. Ian hadn’t met them yet, apart from Mandy who was villainized in her own right. But she actually seemed to like him.

But that never bothered Ian. He was able to be with Mickey, be with someone who would do anything for him, who wanted to do _everything_ for him. Sometimes he’d look at Ian with such fondness and longing that Ian would almost gather the courage to ask what he was thinking. But he never could. He didn’t want to ruin what they had.

Which is why he was so confused as to what had happened this morning. It had been a simple day, one where the house had been entirely empty. Ian had woken up before Mickey, which was normal, and thought he would do something he had always seen in movies in the latter few decades:  he was going to make Mickey breakfast in bed.

As he was making eggs and toast, since there wasn’t much else, Ian understood why people were so willing to do this for someone else. He had enjoyed it, enjoyed knowing that he was doing something for the person he loved. He had known he loved Mickey for a while, yet hadn’t found the right words to voice them yet. Mickey tended to bolt at too much affection, but Ian had been slowly working on him for the past few years.

Progress was slow, but it was still progress.

And so he had balanced the heaping plate over the two glasses of juice and made his way back to Mickey’s bedroom. The man had been sitting in bed, fumbling for a cigarette when he froze at the site of Ian.

Ian had smiled. “Morning.”

“The fuck is that?” Mickey has asked, his voice hard.

“Breakfast,” Ian said with a smile. “It’s not much—“

Mickey shoved the food to the ground in his haste to grab at Ian. “Did you eat?”

Ian frowned at the turn of events. “What? No. I just made you breakfast. I _thought_ you would enjoy it.”

“I told you not to eat the food here,” Mickey persisted, his eyes flashing.

“But it’s—“

“No!” Mickey hissed. “I fucking told you. I _told_ you! The fuck you do this for, huh?”

“To be nice,” Ian snapped. “To someone I love, but apparently I was wrong.”

Mickey let go of him as if Ian had burned him. “Don’t fucking say that.”

“Say what?” Ian asked.

“You need to leave,” Mickey said instead. “Your family’s right. You can’t be here. You shouldn’t be here.” He was running hands through his short hair and kept glancing around as though something was going to sneak out of the shadows and attack.

“Mickey, what? I don’t understand,” Ian tried again.

“Understand what, firecrotch? I said leave. So you leave. It’s not that fucking hard,” Mickey snapped though he still wasn’t looking at Ian as he struggled to get into some pants and find a shirt.

Ian glared at him. “No. I’m not fucking leaving until you tell me what the fuck’s going on.”

“Then I will.” He grabbed the brown sweater from the ground and stormed off, leaving Ian confused as fuck.

Mickey had slammed the door behind him.

That had been hours ago. It had taken a few minutes to compose himself and figure out what he was going to do. He couldn’t just leave Mickey anymore than he could stop breathing. He was a part of him, in all the good ways.

It had taken him a few more minutes to pull on some clothes and leave in an attempt to trail Mickey and figure out what the fuck had happened. Hours later he finally found himself walking inside this abandoned apartment building after searching just about everywhere else.

And there sat Mickey, leaning against a pillar with a bottle of alcohol—almost empty—in his hands.

Ian stopped at the doorway. “You going to tell me what the fuck that was about, Mick?”

Mickey didn’t say anything, just took a drink.

“Really? That’s all you’re going to do?” Ian shook his head and leaned against the door. “No apology, no explanation, just nothing?”

Mickey remained silent but his eyes flicked to Ian.

“Fine.” Ian walked over to where he saw another bottle and threw it against the other wall.

“The fuck, Gallagher!” Mickey croaked out.

“Oh, he speaks!” Ian shouted half-crazed.

Mickey stood up and started walking toward the door, Ian right on his heels.

“You just going to ignore me?” Ian taunted. “I thought the King of the Underworld was tougher than that.”

Mickey stopped and spun to face him. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Whether it was Mickey being the King or them being over, Ian wasn’t sure. “Then fucking tell me!”

Mickey closed his eyes and breathed, but he didn’t walk away again. Ian took it as a good sign.

“Hey,” Ian said reaching a hand out to Mickey’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Mickey opened his eyes and tilted his head. “How much do you know about the Underworld?”

Out of everything Mickey was going to say—from “I was attempting to hatch chicks from those eggs” to the fact that Ian had taken one too many liberties with the state of their relationship—that question wasn’t anywhere on the list.

Ian furrowed his brow. “Uh, not much. Why?”

Mickey ran a hand over his mouth. “There are certain rules down there. Rules about who comes and goes. Rules about,” Mickey looked at him. “getting someone _alive_ to stay.”

“Okay,” Ian said slowly, unsure where this is going.

“The god of the Underworld can never escape those rules,” Mickey said softly.

“But you’re not there anymore,” Ian said. “You said that you left when the rest of us did because it was getting too overwhelming.”

“Yeah.” Mickey looked down. “Thing is, when you had a home for as long as I did, it’s hard not to bring a piece of it with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You never wondered why people get a weird feeling when they pass my house?” Mickey pressed.

“So you’re saying that your house it technically part of the Underworld.” At Mickey’s nod, Ian continued. “But what does that have to do with me and breakfast?”

“The rules, Ian!” Mickey snapped. “The rules that, if an alive being eats food in the Underworld, they would be trapped there. They could never escape. They could never _leave._ ”

“But we’re not in the Underworld, Mick,” Ian said.

“But you’d never be free!” Mickey shouted throwing his bottle. “You’d be stuck with me forever! You’d never be fully able to find another because a part of you would always belong with me.”

“So?” Ian questioned. “Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

“The fuck Ian!” Mickey ran his hands through his hair again.

Ian grabbed his arm. “Is that why you never had food when I came over? You didn’t want to risk my eating anything?”

Mickey shrugged and didn’t make eye contact. “I didn’t want you to be forced to stay.”

“What if I choose?” Ian asked.

“Gallagher?” Mickey asked quietly.

“What if I willingly eat?”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Mickey said turning away from him.

Ian grabbed him and spun him back around. “I’m fucking serious! I know now what it means if I eat, and it’s what I want.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re saying.” Mickey told him.

“I’m _saying_ I choose you, Mick,” Ian said quietly, his eyes searching. “If you’ll have me.”

It wouldn’t have been too long ago when Mickey would have brushed him off with a faggot comment—he really had grown to understand the culture of this area. But instead he just looked at him with wide and frightened eyes.

“But you need to help with the,” Mickey waved hand. “The winter and your mom.”

“So? It’s not like the seasons hinge on only my presence anymore,” Ian said quietly. “And it’s not like I would never be able to leave.”

Mickey was quiet for a long time. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not. I’m choosing.” Ian said.

And it clicked. Why Mickey had been so afraid to talk about their future, why he never wanted to label anything. Why he sometimes seemed like he was just on the edge of something, of saying something, of _doing_ something but at the last minute would always back away.

“You’re not the demon you believe yourself, Mickey,” Ian said quietly. “You have always been the only one to really see me for who I am and love me anyway. Is it so hard to believe that I think the same of you?”

Mickey shook his head. “You…I—“

“I can and I will,” Ian said and turned to start walking back to Mickey’s house. Mickey followed silently behind him.

Ian stormed into the house, unafraid if anyone was there. Mandy was in the kitchen cutting up some fruit. Ian stopped beside her and turned back to Mickey. “How much do I have to eat?”

“What?” Mandy asked.

“I-I don’t know,” Mickey stumbled out. “It’s different here.”

“Okay.” Ian reached down and picked up a piece of fruit.

Mickey’s hand shot out to stop him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’ll still be able to leave and visit my family?” Ian asked him.

“You won’t be my prisoner,” Mickey grumbled.

“Good.” Ian took a breath.

“I never thought I’d see the day that someone would willingly eat for Hades,” Mandy said shaking her head.

“Fuck off,” Mickey shot at her but his eyes never left Ian.

Ian plucked out a few seeds, not seeing or caring how many, and shoved them in his mouth. The pomegranate seeds were bitter on his tongue, perhaps a bit too sweet, but he swallowed them.

“There.” Ian told him. “You believe me now?” he asked as he stared at Mickey. “Or you need more proof? I could fuck you on the table if you prefer that type of demonstration.”

“You’re a dick,” Mickey said as he shoved him out of the way so he could go into his room.

Ian just laughed and followed after him, right into the sweetest level of hell. 

**Author's Note:**

> This one is written in a similar style to yesterday's version. It works to get the heart of the story, but the little moments can become lost and overlooked. If any of you want them, just let me know the moments you'd like to see. And if there's anything else in this 'verse you'd like to see!
> 
> (I feel sad to leave Persephone-Ian and Hades-Mickey after these few weeks. I've grown attached to them!)


End file.
